Fraggle Rock fic; Your Lantern's Light

[alyteima]

Hello all! I'm pretty new here and I'm rediscovering my love for Fraggle Rock. Here's my first attempt at a fan-fic in this genre.

I apologize in advance for it being a bit dark, that's kind of my style but its not overly dark/gory or anything like that (Still muppets here, LOL) It does have a very Fraggle Rock-like message about the magic there.

Constructive criticism is always welcome, as well as feedback

“Your Lantern’s Light”​

Disclaimer; Fraggle Rock is the property of the Jim Henson Company and does not belong to me; I’ve only rediscovered its magic. I make no profit from this and humbly give all credit to the writers, actors and creators of the series and especially to Jim Henson who taught me at a young age about love, friendship and magic. He can never know how much his gentle genius influenced my life for better. Thank you.
Special thanks to Steve Whitmore who voices and performs my darling Wembley so well. *Snorgles adorable Wembley*

Sweet, deep sounds hung echoing in the caves, accompanied by a low melody.
A horn sang its lovely song, so beautiful it caused an ache deep inside. Flowers opened in response, small creatures turned towards it and the Minstrels followed, always followed.
It was power, great power within its own magic, yet held lightly and calmly by its keeper.
The last note finally sounded, twinkling in the cool air and the Minstrels raised their heads to follow wherever they had to go.
But Cantus didn’t start again. He raised his hand and everything came to a stop. The creatures scurried away and flowers hid their faces.
A cold, oppressive wave floated through the caves and Cantus’ only recognition of it was a distant look in his eyes.
“There is no conflict here.” He whispered. “No, no conflict is welcome either. Your voice is not wanted here. Retreat. Go back to your darkness. We do not want what you have to offer.”
One of the Minstrels slowly approached. “W-What _is_ that Cantus, my man? That, that change? Have it always been here?”
Cantus shook his head. “It is pain, pain follows it and its challenge. And yes, it is always here, always, but sometimes, sometimes it grows stronger.. I do not know where the force began, but it seeks something.”
“What, man?” The shaggy Minstrel whispered, feeling a dark force around them, fighting the pure magic of the music.
“Prey.” Cantus murmured. He looked terribly sad for a moment. “It seeks a victim. Innocence or greed, something from either. It wants to feed.”
All of the Minstrels shuddered, wary.
“Let’s boogie, then.” Cantus’ shaggy friend warned and the others nodded.
“We shall.” Cantus continued, “but it is not just here and we cannot leave it. It is everywhere. It has been waiting.”
The tall Fraggle sighed. “I think it has been waiting a very long time. There is nothing to offer here, but elsewhere?” Cantus looked down, deep in thought.
Then, he started walking again. “Come.”
The other Minstrels followed.


I am here, I’m never there.
If I’m there, then I’m who knows where.
First I stay then, go away
This is what we sing each day
‘Cause if I’m here, I’ve found my way.
A high pitched, squeaky voice sang softly, the owner bouncing as he went.
He stopped, a mischievous look on his face, and looked behind him, then side to side.
“Boinka, boinka squeedlee dee!” He shouted, giggling and hopping around.
He started singing again, the Ditzies glowing as they followed.
He sang, not paying attention to the direction he was going. His steps became more elaborate as he bounced and boinked with endless energy.
When he finally stopped, out of breath and giggling, even applauding himself, he took a good look around.
He hadn’t gone too far from the Great Hall yet he was in a cave he hadn’t been in for awhile.
The caverns in the Rock were extensive and mysterious so Wembley wasn’t afraid. He just stared around curiously.
And he listened.
For such a noisy, hyper little Fraggle, his hearing was beyond exceptional. Another mystery of the Rock.
Wembley looked around suddenly, surprised. The ever present noises of his world that he was so used to were gone. There was an unnatural silence. It was so strong it seemed to absorb noise and Wembley felt it, swallowing his laughter and little song.
Something moved through the rock, and it wasn’t whoopee water.
Wembley, unknowingly, took a step back, feeling something here so unfamiliar he couldn’t identify it.
A wave of fear and dismay threatened to swallow him up, and then it too was muted. He just stood there, mouth agape.
“Here.”
A small voice whispered.
“I’m here. You know it. You can hear me”.”
The whisper sounded triumphant and Wembley felt paralyzed, his thoughts muddled.
“Come.”
Wembley did, putting his head against the rock. It was very cold.
“No one has heard me before. No one but you, little Fraggle.”
Wembley shuddered but couldn’t move.
“Do you know me?”
Unfamiliar thoughts and emotions welled up in the green Fraggle. He saw himself shouting at Boober for abandoning him at the Duetathon, beating Red at every game and laughing at her dismay, painting and writing better than Mokey and feeling her worthlessness. He reveled in it. He saw himself destroying Gobo’s maps and telling him what he thought that puffed-up fool’s version of ‘friendship’ was, laughing cruelly at that oaf, Travelling Matt. Friendship was nothing but weakness.
They were all weaker than him and they knew it. Even the Gorgs bowed down to him. He had more than radishes, more than crowns, the Doozers built for him, the Fraggles sang tribute songs to him, even the silly creatures knew and worshipped the idea of him.
It was all too much, too strong and its malice, avarice, spite and ugliness were all so foreign to Wembley he screamed out, pulling himself away from the rock.
Tears streamed out of his wide eyes and he shook his head.
“What _was_ that!” He whimpered, shaking badly.
Silence. Then, “Yours.”
“W-what?” Wembley didn’t understand.
“Yours.” The voice sounded impatient now, angry. “Ask and take it.”
Wembley sat there, wanting to run as far away as he could but he was still frozen to the spot. The voice held him there.
“But, but, I…who are you? I, what was…”
“Take it, fool! Take it! SHOW ALL OF THEM!”
The whisper was a furious shout and Wembley moaned, putting his hands over his ears.
Silence again.
“You want it. Everything shown is what you have felt. You know it.”
And Wembley did. With his closest friends, at least, he has imagined the things he’d seen, in a softer, more polite way at least.
Wembley quaked even more and moaned pitifully. “Please leave me alone!”
“Why? This is power. Now, you must take it.”
Wembley shook his head. “But, but I don’t _want_ it!”
“Lie, you lie.”
“No I don’t!” Wembley squealed indignantly. “I, I never wanted all of that. That’s, that’s not, its not _right_” He finished, lacking a better word for it all.
“Leave me alone. Just leave me alone and go away!” He shouted and suddenly the cave returned to normal.
Then, the cave began to shake. Rage built in its walls and Wembley put his hands over his head, terrified.
“YOU WILL PAY! TAKE IT, OR YOU WILL PAY! THIS IS YOUR ONLY CHANCE, OR I WILL TAKE EVERYTHING YOU ARE. I WILL FIND THE MEANS TO DESTROY YOU!”
“W-W-Why?” Wembley finally said, his voice breaking in terror.
“Only you can hear me now, others can only feel what I have to offer. You could be the strongest, the most powerful. Take what I have to offer, or else take the consequences.”
The visions and emotions came again, stronger than before and Wembley couldn’t shut them out. They almost covered everything else he knew and remembered.
But not quite.
“NO!” He shouted.
The cave quieted again.
“Y-you can’t hurt me, and you won’t find anyone who will. Go away; don’t ever come back to Fraggle Rock!” Wembley finished, tears still streaming out. “Don’t ever come back! An-And I’m gonna forget this ever happened. You don’t have any power here.”
Wembley fled.
“That’s what you believe, foolish fraggle. Power comes from the one who uses it. You will pay and I will come back here. I will destroy what you are and what you love. I have always found the way.”

 

[Redsonga]

Silly all knowing evil presence, that isn't power. That's just being forceful to the point of having no friends . Whoever it is death/ another world/ ages past has done nothing to improve their character o.0
*pokes Jareth/evil ghost of Mudwell/ lost king of the Ditzies/ the marauding soul of Boober's Doomsday Soup/voice of a lot of human nature fraggles do very well without *
j/k *lol*

 

[alyteima]

2nd Part

Gobo woke up suddenly, something twisting in his gut. Or, his ‘inner voice, er, stomach’ according to Wembley. Speaking of his roommate, Gobo craned his neck out to see if he’d woken the younger fraggle. He’d been exhausted from mapping out some new caverns and had fallen asleep before Wembley had come in.
His gut twisted again and Gobo frowned, uncertain. He looked up and his gut jumped into his throat.
Wembley wasn’t in his bed. And the Ditzies light was growing stronger, signaling dawn.
Gobo jumped out of his own bed and climbed up the ladder. There was no sign that Wembley had been in his bed last night.
He jumped down, telling himself not to jump to conclusions or be such a nervous Nellie. Wembley had been out before by himself, even all night.
*Of course, he was almost squashed in a cave-in.*
Gobo ran out into the caverns, pell-mell, panic-mode setting in at the memory.
“Wembley? Wembley?”
He shouted, his voice echoing in the early morning quiet. Drowsy eyed fraggles popped their heads out of various caves.
“S-Say Gobo, what’s the idea?” A yawning, messy-haired Boober wandered up, his voice grumpier than usual.
“I was having a lovely dream about separating whites and colors. Why’d y’ha-’”
“Boober, did Wembley stay in your room last night?” Gobo cut him off, frantically.
“Huh?” Boober’s red hair flopped over his eyes. “Of course not, he’d spoil my carefully sanctioned system of sanitation!"
"Oh no.” Gobo moaned, turning and bumping into Red, who stared back, an eyebrow raised.
“What are you yelling about so early, Gobo? Some of us are trying to sleep, y’know! I have some pool time this morning and you’ve broken my entire routine.”
“Wembley’s missing!” Gobo shouted, looking past Red to a drowsy Mokey.
Mokey’s eyes went wide. “Are you sure Gobo?”
“Yeah!” Gobo snapped impatiently. “Uh, at least, I think. Has anyone seen him?”
Dozens of fraggles shook their heads and murmured. “No one?” Gobo asked again.
Even Red looked concerned now.
“Well, what did you do fearless leader? Did you two have an argument?”
“No! I, I barely saw him yesterday.” Gobo swallowed at the lump in his throat.
Mokey patted him on the arm. “Well, then I’m sure he’s fine. Maybe he decided to do some exploring and forgot to tell us!” She smiled gently but Gobo shook his head.
“But he always waits for me, he doesn’t go off on his own. Not without checking in first.”
Red rolled her eyes. “Honestly Gobo, are you his best friend or nursemaid? Besides, weren’t you the one who said that he was a *ahem* very promising explorer?” Red finished, puffing her chest out in a pompous way.
Gobo flushed at that memory, his temper frayed.
“I know my best buddy, Red Fraggle! And I know when something’s wrong.” He trailed off.
The caverns were quiet. The other three looked at him, wide-eyed.
“All right. We need to search for him then.” Mokey said softly. “Just let me check something, okay?” She spoke more to Gobo, who was chewing his bottom lip distractedly .
He nodded and she slipped away.


Wembley lost track of time, he shook and sniveled trying to get the awful voice out of his head. It still echoed there and his little green body trembled at the memory.
He put his arms over his head and huddled down, glad for the deep shadows in the cave. It grew cooler and he didn’t notice.
His eyes finally drooped but he didn’t sleep. He lay his head on a nearby rock and sighed deeply, exhaustion like he’d never felt before settling over him.
Gradually, the terrible emotions and thoughts faded away, soothed out of Wembley’s mind by the floating colors in the cave and the peaceful sounds of Fraggle Rock.
He sniffled one more time and nearly jumped out of his skin when a soft hand landed on his shoulder.
“Yeeeep!” He squealed and turned around.
Mokey stood there, looking concerned.
“M-M-Mokey, y-you…*Ahem*” Wembley shook his head. “You scared me.”
Mokey put both hands on the smaller fraggle’s shoulders. “I’m sorry little Wembley. But, you’ve scared us too, y’know.”
“I-I have?”
She smiled gently at him. “It’s dawn Wembley.”
He looked around, amazed. “It is?”
“Yes. Where have you been?” Her voice was still soft, not accusing. It soothed Wembley’s nerves.
“Well, here.” He shrugged.
Mokey smiled again. “I can see that. But, _why_ Wembley? Its chilly here.” She bowed down to Wembley’s eye-level.
“We were just a little worried”
Her eyes showed that she was still, looking at Wembley. Something wasn’t right. Wembley was usually high-strung, it was true, but now he looked haggard. He wasn’t the strongest health-wise either, but she had never seen him like this.
She wrapped Wembley up in her robe, leading him out. “Wembley, what happened?” She asked quietly.
Wembley didn’t answer. All of the terrible emotions and thoughts had blurred into something like a memory, or even his imagination. Had he imagined it?
He shuddered, uncertain. It was a muddle in his mind. He just leaned into Mokey and she hugged him, giving comfort.
“I, I don’t remember, Mokey.” His voice sounded forlorn and Mokey hugged him tighter.
“It was awful.” He sniffed. “I, at least, I think it was. Maybe I just thought it was and now I’m sure it is and…”
“Wembley.” She hushed him. “C’mon. It will be all right. You’ll remember if it’s important.”
“Okay, Mokey.”